


Clocking It

by Measured



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah, you see this? Quality beefcake." He flexed his arm, revealing barely more muscle than she had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clocking It

**Author's Note:**

> fic_promptly: author's choice, author's choice, "I'm just going to punch you in the face now."
> 
> From [this](http://www.teamfortress.com/meetthedirector/?p=5) and [this.](http://www.teamfortress.com/meetthedirector/?p=9) A missing scene from Meet The Director.
> 
> For Salty, who had a shitty day. Imagine Scout punching all your problems in the face.

They were well behind schedule, given that Scout had proven to be far more loquacious than expected. His file had noted a tendency to be talkative, though she hadn't been prepared to the _extent._ His file had some strange notes that she was only beginning to understand, like 'keep female personnel away from this mercenary' and 'prone to violence.'

However, what they forgot to mention was the size of his ego. Miss Pauling rubbed at her temples. At first she had tried to keep track of what he was saying, but about five hours ago of talking himself up, it just all faded into background noise. Now her hair was coming undone, she was fairly sure she needed to reapply her lipstick, and she feared that she'd have to sneak around somewhere to reapply perfume, as five hours in direct sunlight was doing her no favors.

The Director's nasal voice cut into Scout's chattering. "We ran out of film five hours ago."

She didn't even bother to look up from her clipboard, and only vaguely noted that the Director was walking away. 

"Man, what a jackass. So, how _you_ doin', Miss Pauling? Hey, have you ever seen me with my shirt off? 'Cause it is _awesome_."

He had suddenly gotten very close. She blushed, raising one eyebrow. _What?_

"Yeah, you see this? Quality beefcake." He flexed his arm, revealing barely more muscle than she had.

"Um, yes," she said, inching away. She was beginning to understand that note about the personnel.

"Am I interrupting _anything_?" The Director said with disdain in his voice. She was getting very tired of his voice, and every other thing about him. Of course, she wouldn't have to put up with him much longer at this rate. 

"No," Miss Pauling said.

"Yeah, _you are,_ " Scout said.

"The things I do for a paycheck. Don't tell me you lost the film reels again," the Director said.

"No–" she said.

"Ugh, you're _useless,_ " he muttered as he bent down to look underneath the set up.

Scout pushed himself away from the fence. He cracked his knuckles and looked down at the Director. In just a few seconds, he'd gone from cheerfully talking about his favorite subject–namely, himself–and hopelessly flirting with her, to being ready to beat down the staff.

The file had noted he was more prone to bouts of violence than some of the others, but as other notes, it hadn't even gone into the extent.

"Excuse me? Maybe I'm a little frickin' hard of hearin', because it sounded to me like you just called the lady useless. And you know, I have to be wrong, because nobody would say that, especially about _her_."

"Oh, please, you're built like spaghetti," The Director said dismissively.

He grabbed the Director's shirt and pulled him up. "Listen up, jerkass, this 'spaghetti' is gonna kick your ass from Kathmandu and back. She's the furthest thing from useless! She files paperwork and crap, _she does stuff!_ Now you are gonna apologize to Miss Pauling, or I'm going to pound your frickin' face in!"

The usual smug disdain had faded to fear. He tried to push himself away, but Scout just held on tighter. 

"In fact, you better get a real good apology for bein' such a frickin' jackass. Maybe get on your knees or somethin'," Scout said.

The Director looked desperately to Miss Pauling. "You wouldn't let him hurt me," the Director said, panic beginning to fill his voice. "I'm contracted to your company. I'm your talent! _You need me_ "

"Well, considering how _useless_ I am, I certainly am not strong enough to stop someone from hurting you, right?" Miss Pauling said a little too sweetly.

"Well, if you didn't want me to," Scout said, shifting a little.

" _Right_?" she said, speaking over him.

"Aw, yeah, right!" Scout said. "In fact, baaadump, time's up. I'm just going to punch you in the face now!"

The Director gulped and looked from him to her.

"I'll tell your boss, and—You won't ever get anyone from the film guild again, I'll guarantee _that!_ "

The thought of him screaming and writhing in pain was such a relaxing thought, especially after such a stressful day. Even if it might inconvenience her, she couldn't let an opportunity like this pass.

Besides, it wasn't as if they'd need to tangle with the film guild again after he was taken care of.

"It's good that she'll never know now, isn't it? In fact, this can be our little secret, Scout. Don't punch him where it's visible," she said.

Scout's smile was dark as he balled his fist and slammed his fist into the Director's stomach. The Director made a gurgling sound and stumbled back, as Scout hit him again and again. It was a flurry of quick punches and insults made so fast they blended together. And she had to admit, after five hours of ignoring him and feeling nothing but indifference and annoyance towards him, it was a very nice sight, indeed. The Director's attempts at defending himself were pathetic and easily overcome, which made it very one sided fight...not that it lessened her enjoyment any.

The Director crumbled to the ground, with Scout standing right over him.

"C'mooon, I ain't barely winged you. In fact, you're _boring_ me!"

"I'm not bored," Miss Pauling said.

"Then I'll make sure you get a good show, the best damn show you ever saw," Scout said. 

He cracked his knuckles again, as the Director looked up in horror.

"I'm gonna make you so sorry you ever disrespected her—sorry you was ever _born_." 

_His violence can be controlled and funneled to useful endeavors. Funny, it mentioned he was hard to control,_ she mentally noted. She'd have to update his file when she returned. 

*

His knuckles were bloody and left smears on the window as he leaned in on the half-open truck window. His bluster and rage had faded to disappointment. The Director was behaving better, now, keeping his mutterings to faint grumbles, and occasional fearful glances their ways. She had little to fear for revenge—he wasn't exactly a physical revenge, sort. Besides, she had a pistol strapped to her thigh if he tried anything.

"You sure you don't want me comin' along? Just to make sure he don't pull anymore crap?"

"No, I think that's quite all right. He's got the message, _hasn't he?_ "

The Director drew back, with a louder mutter of _savages!_

"Keep it up and I'll teach you the meanin' of _savage,_ asshole!"

She had to admit, violence was a good look on him. He may have possibly broken records in the egotism and sustained talking department, but when it came to hurting people, he was very dedicated to his job. And she couldn't help but admire that dedication, even if just a little bit.

"I'm gonna see you again, right?" Scout said. There was a plaintive note to his voice.

"We work together," she said.

"Kay, good. So, you need any of these jackasses punched, just call me. Any time, day or night, you know my number, right?"

 _"We work together,"_ she repeated. "I perused your personnel file. I know quite a bit about you."

" _Quite a bit,_ huh?" he grinned suggestively at her. Poor choice of words on her part. "Anything the file doesn't say about me, I can fill you in."

"I'm sure you will. You're quite talented in that respect," she said dryly.

"Oh, hell yeah! So, just call if you need me. In fact, call if you don't need me—but we both know it ain't like that, huh? Huh?"

There was a groan from the other side of the truck. "Are you about done with your _flirting?_ We still have several more of these idiots to film."

"You know, I'm feelin' like punchin' him in the face again," Scout said. "How about it, Miss P? An early birthday present, maybe?"

She had to admit she shared the sentiment. 

"I suppose just one little blow won't hurt," she said.

"Speak for yourself!" the Director said, reaching for the door, only to find Scout had already blocked him in.

"This one's for Miss P!" Scout said as he struck the Director again. The Director ducked away, cowering closer to her. She lifted one eyebrow. Did he really think she'd defend him? If he was looking to her for an ally, he was sorely mistaken.

"I quit, _I quit with this farce already!_ "

"You wouldn't want to go back on your contract, would you, Mr. Director?" Miss Pauling said in a silky voice. "Then I'd have to talk to the Administrator, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Whooa, you do not want to be pulled out in front of the dragon lady, lemme tell you that," Scout said. "I did once, and it stiiill gives me chills."

"I hate all of you!" The Director spat out.

"Good, because we feel the same way!" Scout slammed his hand against the door for emphasis, then shook it in pain. Not his brightest move by far.

The Director muttered something and revved up the truck. For a moment, Scout clung tighter to the car, and she wondered if she'd have to order him away. Finally he let go and gave her a grim smile. 

She could still see him in the rearview mirror, still jumping and waving. Desperately fighting for her attention, even when he was little more than a blip on the horizon.

One more thing to add to his personnel file when she returned.


End file.
